


Cry

by May (burninginsilence)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, BotFA, I'm so sorry, M/M, bagginsheld - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3782182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burninginsilence/pseuds/May
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin couldn't even remember when was the last time he had cried, if he had ever.</p>
<p>Thorin Oakenshield never cried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cry

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I post here.
> 
> I don't have a beta so every mistake is mine.
> 
> Also, english is not my first language so if you find any mistakes please let me know so i can correct them.

Thorin Oakenshield never cried, he couldn't even remember when was the last time his eyes shed tears.  
  
But then... then he noticed that maybe his heart wasn't made of stone like he had thought for so long, but he had realized it too late. His hobbit, his burglar, his love... His Bilbo was laying on the cold ice, bleeding.  
  
With a loud sharp cry he got up, his blood boiling with anger, he stabbed Azog when he was laughing.  
  
Over, and over and over again. He saw the blood split over his face and his eyes turn empty of life, well, more than before. That didn't stop him, he couldn't bring himself to stop. He simply couldn't. With a final stab on his heart -or where he supposed it was- he finally stood motionless, blue eyes colder than all the snow and ice The Lonely Mountain could ever hold, he turned his body to look at Bilbo, dropping on his knees besides him; there was no use on trying, he knew from the moment the blade pierced his soft skin that he would die.  
  
The mithril shirt was supposed to protect him, he was expecting for every blade to try to land into his chest to break, but when the sharp cut landed on his neck, he knew there was no way he could be saved. The blade pierced right through bone, he knew it, he heard it cracking.  
  
Stroking softly the hobbit's chin he saw Bilbo open his eyes slightly _"_ Thorin" he smiled, "shush little one, don't talk, you'll be alright, you'll be alright" he repeated it, even though he knew it was a lie. "You... You do not understand, Thorin" he smiled _"_ I.. When..." he left out a sharp breath, his lungs struggling to get oxygen past his neck "when I jumped in front of you I _-ah-_ I knew I was going to die" Thorin stroked his chin again, then running his hands over the blood stained, but still soft golden curls on the hobbit's head "Bilbo... Bilbo, silence, don't... Don't talk anymore, you're going to be okay, you won't die," he repeated it like a mantra, he wanted to make himself believe it. "No Thorin, I will, but it's okay... It's okay because I saved... I saved the only one- the only person that ever mattered, because I saved... My one" Thorin let out a sharp cry, the confession that he had been waiting for so long, for too long.

 

He blamed himself for being a coward, for not speaking his mind when he had time, because now he didn't, every chance he ever had was gone.  
  
"No Bilbo, no" he sobbed "Bilbo... the Eagles... The Eagles are here..." the Eagles flied on the distance, their forms contrasting with the sunlight "I'm sorry Thorin, but i must go now, I love you..." it was barely above a whisper, if the dwarf hadn't been close enough he wouldn't have heard it.  
  
"Farewell, Master dwarf..." The last syllables hung in the air like snowflakes on winter nights.  
  
Bilbo's eyes lost focus, the shiny honey of them becoming dark and... _Dead._ He didn't want to use that word, he didn't want to think that he was gone, forever gone.  
  
Thorin clinged to the hobbit's body for dear life, he hugged him like he never did, like he wished he had done before. Screaming to the hobbit to open his eyes, to come back.  
  
 _But he never did._  
  
Regret ran through every fiber of his body, why wouldn't he do something before? Why wouldn't he say how he felt? Why would he be so stupid, so stubborn, so blind?  
  
"Bilbo, Bilbo..." tears felt down his cheeks like raindrops, and he knew there was no use on trying to stop them, what would he gain with it? His heartless facade was long gone. He hugged the small body and buried his face on the hobbit's chest. Muffling a cry of pain as he saw how the blood started to stop _-maybe because there was no more to drop-_. The lifeless creature laid with his eyes open, looking at no point in specific, Thorin closed his eyes with one hand and then pressed a kiss to Bilbo's lips.

_Their first and last kiss._  
  
He liked to think it was raining, that way all the water that fell on Bilbo's face came from the sky, not from his own eyes.  
  
He carried the small body through the battlefield, dirt washed with blood, walking between corpses and back into the mountain, maybe before he would have felt something, anything, but now his heart was covered by frozen stone.  
  
Thorin wanted the hobbit to have a proper funeral, there was no way he was leaving him on the outside for the wild animals to eat him, he wouldn't let his one end like that.  
  
Balin saw them first, a lifeless Bilbo in Thorin's arms, with bloody clothes and tear stained cheeks.  
  
They crafted the finest tomb into the mountain, the insides full of gems, _just like Bilbo's heart used to be_.

Thorin never allowed anyone to get as close to him as the hobbit did, after all, he knew that when a dwarf found his one, their love lasted until they drew their last breath, and Thorin expected that to be soon, because with every heartbeat he felt the aching pain that had made a home on his chest grow bigger and wider, consuming all that the King Under The Mountain was.  
  
For him it was odd to think about Erebor now, yes, they had their home finally back, but, at what cost? he always wondered, he saw multiple flowers laying on the ground that was once the battlefield, the ground that once was covered in more blood than raindrops.  
  
Questions like this always shadowing his mind, preventing him to see any light, he couldn't even bring himself to look at his gold that once he cherished with such a fierce love, now he hated it. He hated every single coin, he didn't wanted anything, material possessions meant nothing to him comparing them to everything he had lost.

Because he had lost everything that he loved that day.  
  
And Thorin Oakenshield was never the same.  
  
End.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it.please leave a comment


End file.
